Twisted Fate
by NitoriOhi
Summary: Ever since she was a young girl, Emilia found herself in the care of the Demon Lord Satan. Instead of becoming the gilded Hero of the Church, she becomes Satan's most fearsome Demon General. How will the fate of Ente Isla change henceforth? - AU. Dark, Esdeath-esque Emilia.
1. Divergence

In a far, far world lies a continent on the great ocean of Ignora, consisting of four islands in each cardinal direction – north, south, east and west, whereas a fifth island lay in the center. These islands form the continent known as Ente Isla, the land blessed by the gods and watched over by the angels of Heaven.

The Angelic Host has handed great authority over the kingdoms of man to the Church of the Holy Cross, the guardian and bulwark of the Ente Islan people. Magic has been given to them eons ago to combat the forces of evil that had been present since the creation of the blessed land many millennia past.

While humanity would humbly submit to the rule of the Church and the laws of the gods, all lived in fear and trembling over one certain individual: The Dark Lord, Satan. His mere name would strike fear in every human heart; so much fear that he would not be spoken of. For Satan is the Devil, the ruler of demons, a King whose subjects are creatures of the night – creatures like werevolves, gargoyles, incubi, succubi, goblins, imps and many, many more. Satan has been setting his sights at Ente Isla for quite some time now, seeking to annex the blessed land into his kingdom of darkness, so that the demonic race would dominate in prosperity.

The Devil Satan has four great Demon Generals under his command, each with a different specialty.  
The first is Alciel, the tribe leader of the deceased Iron Scorpions. He serves as King Satan's master strategist and specializes in lightning magic. His armor, the black skin, is said to be impenetrable.  
The second is Lucifer – Fallen Angel, Morningstar, Lightbringer, Son of the Dawn – he is known by many names and titles. He is the aerial commander, having authority over Satan's aerial forces.

The third is Adramelech, the Minotaur who hails from the tribe of the Ashen Horns. He does not use magic of any kind, relying on his brute force.

And then, we have Malacoda, the dark sorcerer. Not much is known of him, only that he can use magic of any kind to great mastery.

At least, that is all humanity would know about Satan and his kingdom. However, as the ancient saying goes: War is deceit. One would be extremely foolish to disclose every single detail about one's army. No one could accuse the Devil of being anything but extremely intelligent. Like any great ruler, he has an ace up his sleeve.

And that ace would be I, Emilia Justina.

Of course, humanity has no knowledge of this. After all, I am supposed to become the gilded Hero of the Church, the savior of mankind, the One destined to slay the Devil. The blood of Heaven courses through my veins; what fellowship, you may ask, would one of the Heavens have with the darkness of demons? For light and darkness do not mix; they are natural, sworn enemies.

On the other hand, there is an exception to every rule. And in my case, it is a very grave exception, for one event changed my life forever. One fateful event shattered my world into a million pieces, never to rise again.

* * *

 **Divergence**

* * *

 _ **EMILIA  
******_

The demon world is not for weak hearts. While humanity would look forward to the sun rising from the east every day, the demon world – my world – would have no such thing to look forward to. Demons would hate the sun, the symbol of light, hope and peace. So it would make sense for someone like me, who has been residing in this world ever since _that_ event to eventually hate the sun as well. And how _much_ I hate it. I loathe it with every fiber of my being. Stupid humans would see the sun rise every day and hold hope, as if they are promised tomorrow. No one is promised tomorrow. I know this better than anyone. Their visions, hopes and dreams are foolish. I scoff; there are so many other variants on mediocrity.

My world is one of darkness, one of a perpetually red sky. It is a world where predators are constantly prowling in the shadows, looking to devour unsuspecting victims. Civilization? That's a pretty word. No such thing exists here. In here, your worth is determined by your strength – mental as well as physical strength. If you have neither, you are simply another poor soul in the long line of cannon fodders that have perished miserably before you. Those who are able enough would enlist to serve in the Demon King's army, if only to live near or inside the Devil's castle. And yes, life here in the castle is _harsh_ , but it is infinitely preferable over having to live in constant vigilance in the wilderness.

 _Knock, knock._

I roll my eyes, letting out a hiss under my breath in great annoyance. Who would dare to disturb me in my line of thought? It better be important, because the poor soul will _not_ want to suffer my wrath. I will not tolerate any unnecessary annoyance.

"Enter." I bellow sternly, unable to completely hide my annoyance. I rise from my comfortable seat, only to spot a black, feathery creature, much shorter in height than myself. He bows respectfully.

"Camio." I say, feeling my voice and gaze soften considerably. It is very unusual to be visited by the Demon King's minister. He has served as my guardian ever since the Devil has brought me to his castle, teaching me almost everything I currently know about the demon world. He has shown me nothing but kindness and understanding, hoping I would slowly be content serving his Liege.

I approach the bird-demon, patting him on his un-proportionally big head and smile at him. "I am glad to see you, minister."

He chuckles lowly. "The pleasure is mine as well, Lady Emilia. His Majesty is requesting your presence."

I tilt my head in surprise. "Lord Satan? What could he possibly want at this hour?"

"He did not say, my Lady. He merely told me that you are to come before his presence in the Throne Room _immediately._ " I startle a bit, alarmed by Camio's emphasis on the last word.

"It must be urgent, then. _Very_ urgent."

Camio nods at my observation. It is very rare of the Demon King to send his minister, one of the most trusted individuals of his inner circle, to deliver such a deceptively simple order. I know Lord Satan; he is not one to trifle.

"Did Milord request only my presence, or are the other Generals to be present as well?" I inquire slowly.

Camio scratched his head in confusion. "That I do not know, my Lady. But I would presume that this urgent matter would involve the other Generals as well."

I nod. "Understood, Camio. Escort me to Lord Satan's Throne Room."

Bowing again, he answers: "As you wish, my Lady."

* * *

The castle might appear tall and narrow on the outside, but the halls are wide and long, _very_ long. Remembering when I first came here, my legs would hurt excruciatingly just from a mere walk from one hall to another. One thing I would always marvel at was the painted walls in all shades of purple and blue. The demonic sigils would leave me in awe, making me want to recreate them on parchment paper that Camio would provide so graciously for me. The painted walls would make the pain that stung in my legs bearable, until I would be used to walking such long periods. Needless to say, I still marvel at these walls. The Demon Lord is certainly not boring at all.

"Lord Satan." I hear Camio's firm voice in front of the large, gold-plated port that marked the entrance to the Devil's Throne Room. My subconscious always fears audiences with the Demon Lord for some reason, even though he has never harmed me. I gulp to ease my nervousness.

"The Lady General, Sire." Camio added, wasting no more time, opening the large port. The ever-so-familiar scenery is now displayed before me: Two royal blue banners, depicting the Demon Lord's sigil, hang down next to his throne on opposite sides. The throne itself was large, coloured pitch-black with golden ornaments, seated on a tall and wide staircase. From the middle of the throne right to the entrance of the room, lay the crimson carpet I would always glide on with much countenance, careful not to anger my Lord. I suppose I do not need to say that it was Camio who taught me the ins and outs of royal etiquette.

Looking around, I spot very familiar faces: A tall fellow dressed in a blue mage robe that hides his face, another fellow with black, feathery wings and purple hair that is swung to the side, a brutish Minotaur, and, last but not least, an ashen blonde fellow, covered in black skin, swinging his characteristic scorpion tail around. He is the tallest of the four.

As I expected; I am not the only one that has been summoned before the Demon King.

"You are late, Emilia." I hear the deep and raspy voice coming from the one with ashen blonde hair. The nerve he has! Apparently he has not been walking to the Throne Room by foot all these years. But I digress, not allowing myself to fall prey to the temptation of snapping at him.

"Alciel." I answer him, my voice carefully neutral. "Mayhap I should remind you that His Majesty shall be the judge on my punctuality."

"Can you not, for just this time, loosen up a bit?" a young voice moans, its owner standing next to Alciel, who in turn whips around to glare at him.

"May I remind you that it is an insult to arrive before our Sire that late, Lucifer?" Alciel bellows, immediately pointing at me.

The Fallen Angel simply rolls his eyes. "And who are _you_ to assume judgment over such trivial matters?"

"Stop it, this is getting annoying." A low, brutish voice grumbles opposite of Alciel and Lucifer. He sounds clearly annoyed. The Mage next to him nods in agreement.

"Give it a rest already. She is here, that's all that matters." The blue-robed Mage hisses from beneath his garments.

Alciel looks like he is about to explode. "Annoying? _Annoying?_ Her blatant _lack_ of etiquette is annoying! She is insulting Lord Satan, we cannot ignore-"

"Alciel."

The reptilian Demon General flinches immediately at the sound of that chilling, frightful and dark voice. "My Lord, she-"

" _Enough._ " the dark voice's owner bellows from his throne, whose facial features are hard to read in the darkness. "Do not sully my presence with petty arguments."

Alciel bowed in resignation. "Of.. of course, Sire."

A large index finger beckons me to come forward. I walk forward, careful not to gaze at the one who sits on the throne, and kneel just before the first stair, inclining my head and crossing my arms, so that each hand would be positioned on my shoulders like wings.

"Emilia." the dark voice speaks my name, whereas I try not to flinch in fear.

"My Lord." I speak back in utmost reverence, "As you wished, I, your General, have honoured your summons." I squint to catch a glimpse of the Demon Lord, barely making out a small smirk on his face.

"I am very pleased, Emilia. Four of the five isles in Ente Isla have already fallen to the might of our forces."

I smile at the Demon King. "Indeed, so I have heard, Sire. Only the central isle remains, but I am sure that you shall be very successful in your endeavours."

"Undoubtedly." The Devil answers, "For the last isle, I have decided to enter the battlefield myself."

Loud gasps could be heard from every General in the room. Even I, who had remained in this reverent position, must look up in surprise and shock. "King Satan… I…" I stammer, trying to look for the proper way to word this. "I.. I would highly advise against such a maneuver.. the humans are a devious lot, and if your castle is left unattended, who knows-"

"I already accounted for that, Lady Emilia." he interrupts me, not sounding angry over my objection at all. "It is one of the reasons why I called you here."

My face tilts in confusion. "My Lord?" I breathe out, looking at the Demon King with slight nervousness.

Satan chuckles amusedly. "You, Emilia, have a _very_ specific target."

Hearing these words slowly ignites my bloodlust, making my red eyes flare up. "Yes…" I hiss.

"The headquarters of the Church." Satan continues, making my eyes dilate more with glee.

"Yesss..!" I hiss, now considerably louder. I cannot help myself. I laugh out loud, coldly, making the Throne Room echo in my laughter. I pay no mind to the Demon Generals around me, who must be very disturbed and annoyed by this.

This day is slowly becoming the best day of my life. I have been waiting to hear these words for as long as I have been here. Satan has never allowed me to lead my own campaign against the Church, a fact that I have disdained for the longest time. It was simply unheard of for a Demon General to never lead an army into battle. However, instead of complaining, I would bide my time, patiently awaiting the order from my Lord.

"Enough laughter now, Lady Emilia." I hear his voice, yanking me out of my thoughts, and I immediately obey.

"You shall lead the campaign against the Central Isle together with me."

My eyes widen in shock. Have I heard right? The Demon Lord, the _Devil,_ wants to leap into battle, together with me?

"My.. Lord…" I find myself stammering again, "Are you sure…?"

He chuckles again. "Yes, it is time for you to be unleashed. Surely you have heard that you would become the Hero of that Church, yes?"

"Correct, Sire."

"My, what a twist of fate – the one who was supposed to be their Hero, will instead be the instrument of their doom."

My head sinks low, making my red bangs cover my vision, making it harder for Satan to read my feral, murderous gaze. My lips twist into a big, sadistic grin, picturing inside my mind the terror and dread of the desolated clergyfolk as soon as they would gaze upon their intended Hero, but instead, would only see their own blood spilt onto the ground.

I will have my revenge.

* * *

 **A/N:** Here's a treat to keep you all busy as you wait for the next chapter of Demonheart, haha.

This is an idea I have had for a long, long time, ever since I have seen a pixiv comic about Emi in Satan's care as a child. So what if, instead becoming the Hero, she became his General? Esdeath from Akame ga Kill was my inspiration for Emilia's character.

Let me know in the reviews if you would like to see more of this.


	2. The Angel of Demons

Once upon a time, there was a small girl with bright, scarlet hair that lived on her father's farm in peace and tranquility. The small girl would experience the joys of the sun every day, the joys of looking at snow-white, fluffy clouds on the blue sky, and the joys of playing with all kinds of flowers every day – poppies, daisies, daffodils, even roses. For such a small girl, the flowers and vast, beautiful gardens in the small village she lived in were _heaven_.

The woes of war, famine, pestilence and disease were completely alien to her, and so were complex emotions like pain. Day after day would go by, and the small girl would live oblivious to the dangers few people knew about. She would be oblivious of the supernatural – the constant, never-ending battle of good and evil – the battle of demonkind and humanity. She knew not a thing about _battle._

And yet, despite the peace, the beauty of the gardens and all other joys a girl experienced, she would be very lonely. She would be very close to her father, never leaving his side most of the time. She was very sheltered, had no friends and all the villagers, kind as they were, would be very distant and careful not to associate too much with the girl or her father.

Father, father. Where was the poor girl's mother? No one knew, and her father would refuse to even touch that subject. Most people, out of the kindness of her hearts, would assume that the girl's mother died at childbirth. Others, more suspecting and dare-say sanctimonious ones, would make far more nefarious assumptions – conceived out of wedlock, or – even worse – that the young girl was the daughter of a common whore. Of course, the girl had no knowledge or comprehension of such matters. She simply felt happy with her father, and that was all that mattered to her.

By now you all would assume that this is the story of an ordinary girl with an ordinary childhood, correct?

… _Wrong._

Time never stops, and so it did not for the young girl, who now had grown into a maiden of eight years. The people now considered her old enough to help partake in her father's business, grazing the animals in the vast greenery, preparing homemade dairy and other things. Arduous tasks, even so, the girl never let even a whisper of complaint escape her small lips.

Until one day, her paradise would come to an end. The maiden was now old enough to slowly learn of the more nefarious things in the world. One day she wandered alone in the village's marketplace and would notice that people cowered in fear in mention of a certain name: _Satan._

"Who is he?" she would ask in child-like naiveté, even though her instincts told her that this name meant nothing good. The villagers, of course, would ignore her, too aghast to burden such a young maiden with the evils humanity faced.

Dismayed by the lack of an answer to sate her naïve curiosity, the young maiden wandered home, only to see her father in distress. She saw him converse with a fellow farmer of his; she could even make out the farmer's name – Yuvic, it was.

"Satan's armies have conquered the Northern and Eastern Isles…" the young maiden heard Yuvic say with great fear and sadness in his voice. Immediately the maiden knew: this was no good.

"Who is he, Satan?" the maiden asked without thinking, hoping she would finally get an answer to her burning question. For the first time in her short life, the maiden's big, emerald eyes would betray fear in them.

Immediately she felt her father's large hands pick her up and place her onto his lap. He locked his eyes, which were the same colour as the maiden's with her and stared intensely at her.

"My daughter…" he whispered, not able to hide his sadness, "Satan… He… he…" His head sunk low, unable to say any more.

"I… I must take my leave now, Nord…" Yuvic whispered faintly, obviously feeling very uncomfortable with this. The young maiden would never forget the pained look in her father's eyes when he mentioned the name of whom she would come to know as the Devil.

Little did the maiden know, nothing could ever prepare her for the pain that would follow shortly after.

One fateful day, the maiden would be woken by extremely loud sounds that resembled those of explosions. Frightened beyond measure, she rushed outside, and what was displayed before her could be described with no words.

 _Her home, Sloan Village, was burning to the ground._

The young maiden heard the excruciating cries and echoes of pain, she saw the village peoples' terror as they ran away from the flames, misfortunate enough to be caught by them. This was the first time the young maiden would smell the sting of _death_ in her nostrils. The smell of burnt flesh, of wood, of metal – and the maiden stood there as if she were a statue, frozen in place, with big, tearful, terrified eyes. Not a single sound dared to escape her throat.

She could only watch as the fire would soon engulf her father's house and farm as well, finally making her turn around in utmost terror. With every ounce of strength she had in her small body, the young maiden would rush home, frantically searching for her beloved father. She would run everywhere in the village aflame, looking for her father, whilst being terrified of the villagers' screams of pain.

He was nowhere to be found.

Exhausted, the maiden would have nowhere to run anymore, and the flames would show no mercy, inching closer and closer. Her vision became blurry; she felt the life leave her body before she was claimed by darkness.

* * *

 **The Angel of Demons**

* * *

 _ **EMILIA  
******_

It is as if time has stopped.

The Demon King, the Lord of us all, has chosen _me_ , his once pitiful fledgling, to accompany him on his campaign against the Central Isle where our enemies had their headquarters. My gaze becomes dark the more I think about it. _The Church of the Holy Cross._ As far as I am aware, they harbor the brightest and most skilled mages and warriors in all of Ente Isla. Even though I would never publicly admit so, it would be delusional to think that someone as powerful as _Satan Jacob_ could waltz in and turn every clergyman to ash.

Alciel, of all demons, would know such a fact even better than me. As Lord Satan's right hand, he, along with Minister Camio, would confer with our Liege for hours in his study. Alciel's prominence reaches so far that he is considered by many to be the leader of the Demon Generals – a 'Grand General', if you will. Of course, Lord Satan never bestowed him such a title. It is not surprising that Alciel has had a rivalry with Lucifer for years now – he is the only of the Generals with the gall to openly oppose Alciel. He knows nothing of tact, or diplomacy, or any semblance of the countenance I would learn under the guidance of Camio. And so, I would scoff at Lucifer's behavior.

I know Alciel – he would have basked in the honor to accompany the Demon Lord on his final campaign against humanity, even though he is not one to declare it out loud. He is the Master Strategist, after all, and it would be foolish to underestimate him. It must have not gone unnoticed to Alciel that Lord Satan chose to give such an honor to _me_ , the half-human, seventeen-year-old maiden, the youngest of the Demon Generals.

"My Lord? Are we sure that we have not… misunderstood your orders?"

I roll my eyes. Right on cue, the bargaining would begin. It always happens when Alciel does not receive the honor to do such important tasks. Snickering I turn towards him, shaking my head.

"I am sure we have all heard Lord Satan's orders loud and clear, General Alciel. Is there a problem?" I could faintly make out Lucifer grinning, regarding me with encouraging stares. I pay them no more mind as I know better than to succumb to juvenile arguments.

Alciel grit his teeth, narrowing his golden eyes in anger at my foolish bravery before he turned to Satan, whipping his arm and pointing his index finger at me, as if to accuse me of something.

"My Lord", he began, his voice firm, yet concerned, "I would highly advise you to rethink your decision regarding having… _her_ … accompany you." I knew too well what he would say. It was obvious.

"General Emilia is very inexperienced. She has never led an army into any battle, but spent many years of her short life sheltered inside your Castle." He took two steps forward, bowing and inclining his head. "I beseech you, Sire. This battle is of utmost importance for your goals. We absolutely cannot afford to have juvenile foolishness leading your vast armies."

I feel my eyebrows furrow slightly. _Juvenile Foolishness?_ Clearly these are not the words befitting of a so-called 'Leader of Demon Generals' – these are words of a foolish, ambitious soldier green with envy.

"You are underestimating her, Alciel. Very clearly so." Lucifer suddenly intones behind Alciel, his voice unusually calm and collected. "Maybe you are forgetting that Emilia is supposed to be the Hero, our Lord's arch-nemesis." He walks forward, now standing before the Demon Lord as well.

"You can accuse her of many things, Alciel, but weakness is not one of them. _She is not to be trifled with._ " the Fallen Angel continues, "Seeing the Hero humanity awaited so long on the Devil's side will greatly demoralize our enemies, making this battle much easier for our forces." He let out a scoff of laughter. "A shame, I thought _you_ of all demons would know this best, _Master Strategist._ "

"Lucifer…" Alciel grunts, his voice deep and frightful. "If you will not hold your tongue", a green lightning ball forms in his open palm, ready to fire at Lucifer, "then I will gladly remove it for you."

Lucifer merely chuckles at his fellow General's threat, amplifying his aura of purple light. "Come and take it, if you can." he responds, his voice betraying an aura of serenity.

Suddenly, the sound of a large fist slamming against the hilt of the Dark Throne makes everyone flinch in fear, including myself.

" **Stop this foolish bickering at once."** a very dark, chilling voice bellows from the Dark Throne, making those this was aimed at shiver in terror. Immediately, Lucifer and Alciel fall to their knees.

I look at the throne and see the large, muscular, teal-haired, bronze-horned demon, clothed in regal attire slowly walk down and aim his piercing, red-eyed gaze at the two frightened Generals.

" **Alciel."** he growled, amplifying his aura of blackness around his body, his voice becoming darker and darker. I snicker under my breath. By the darkness, I do not wish to be in this poor soul's skin right now.

" **You have the** _ **gall**_ **to question my orders… and the temerity to insult my ace against the Church."**

"M-Mercy.. I beseech your Mercy… I.. I…. did not mean to… insult.. you.." It is interesting how confident the Demon General Alciel would usually sound, but one growl from the Demon Lord, and the Master Strategist, 'Leader of the Demon Generals' is reduced to naught but a harmless fly.

With one growl, the Demon Lord turned to the other poor victim of his wrath. **"Lucifer… your rebellious attitude is trying my patience…** _ **anvel wool.**_ **"** The Fallen Angel felt his black wings shiver, a testament to the terror he must truly feel.

"Y-Yes… Forgive me… My Lord…" Lucifer could also only stammer.

" **LOOK. IN. MY. EYES."** The Generals had no choice but to immediately shoot up, glaring into the Devil's wide red pupils. Their fear increased tenfold.

" **Since you worry so much about the outcome of this battle, you two are to survey the enemy's forces on the Central Isle and report back immediately.** _ **Are we clear?**_ **"**

The Generals stayed silent.

" **Are. We. Clear?"**

They flinched immediately. "Y-yes.. Yes, transparently." Alciel answered with a rasping voice.

"As the Aerial Commander and Master Strategist, this responsibility would naturally fall on you two, anyway." I add with indifference in my voice. I smile. Two idiots have been humiliated, and rightfully so; it was only a matter of time.

"You best get to work, Lucifer and Alciel. You know how nasty Lord Satan can be when he is very displeased." the Necromancer, Malacoda, suddenly hissed after having stayed silent for the longest time. He let out a hissing laugh before walking out of the Throne Room.

"I wish you the best of luck, General Lucifer and General Alciel." I declare politely as the displeased Demon Generals are on their way out of the Throne Room, "You'll need it. I'm sure."

* * *

Well, that was certainly eventful. I sigh, glad that this painstaking audience finally is over. I almost feel pity for poor Alciel, now being on the receiving end of all humiliations he has bestowed upon me in the past. Almost. What goes around, comes around, after all.

And just as I thought that my annoyances for this day would be over, the next pestilence comes flying my way.

"Laaaadyyyyy Emiiiiliaaaaaaa-!"

I roll my eyes. _Not them._ I would rather converse with ten, hundred Alciels over _them._ "Farfarello. Libicocco. Ciriatto." I recognize them, my voice flat and emotionless. I know exactly who they are – part of Malacoda's entourage, also known as the _Malebranche._ They are also the most annoying demons in the whole castle.

The three Malebranche demons descend to the ground, now standing before me. The Malebranche are an interesting lot; they are the only tribe living inside the Devil's castle, something completely unheard of in the demon world. Because of this, they are either admired in reverence or despised in envy. They all look similar, as well: They share bat-like wings and huge sharp claws extending from their four limbs.

I look into Ciriatto's eye, whereas the other is covered with an eyepatch. His gaze betrays a lust for battle. "Lady Emilia… mayhap you would like to spar with us?"

My brows furrow in annoyance. "Step aside, Malebranche. I have no time for your antics. Lord Satan tasked me with a very important mission."

"Oh come ooonnn, Lady Emilia.." Farfarello coos, "It's been forever since we tested our skills against you. Master Malacoda has been very rigid with our training."

"Mayhap another time." I quickly say, "Now move aside. _This is an order._ " My red eyes flare up, but I already feel the corridor darken and narrow considerably. I grin knowingly; The Malebranche are demons specialized in illusions, deceivery and necromancy. When I was a child, Malacoda would always task Farfarello, Libicocco and Ciriatto to spar with me. Apparently they loved sparring with me so much that they want to do so even now that I am far above them in rank and power.

I conjure my holy sword, known as Better Half into my hand and my hair turns from scarlet red to snow white, slashing right into the fabric of illusory magic that the Malebrance conjured around me. This may look easy, but this is actually Tier Three magic, something that only human mages of great skill could overcome.

Needless to say, the Malebranche are visibly mortified. "One.. slash?" Ciriatto breathes out in complete disbelief, his head sinking low.

"That's.. unheard of…" Farfarello continues, joining his kinsman's gloomy mood.

"We are an utter disgrace.. if Master Malacoda hears of this.." Libicocco declares, aghast at himself.

I smirk victoriously, dispersing my magic. It was a long time ago that the Malebranche would be formidable foes for me – not anymore.

"Hone your skills", I declare sternly, on my way to my chambers, "and come face me again."

* * *

 **A/N:** Emilia OP. Super OP. Well, not really. Celestial magic is poison to demon magic, after all. I am surprised that you like this idea.. I was not sure how such a story would be perceived since it distorts Emilia's character. However, I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, especially the interaction between Alciel and Lucifer, my little pet rivalry, haha. Satan is scary. Very scary. I think I nailed his character.

Shitposter-kun: I do not plan making Emi a complete Esdeath clone. She will still have her iconic character, only with some similarities to Esdeath, especially in her Demon General ways. She will also have some nefariousness.

Mysteriousgetexpert: I don't know, I've always been a sucker for such stories. They just seem so interesting, so different, that they draw me in. Glad you like this, and thanks for the fav!

Wantingtoread: Romance will come, but not until later, haha.

Coldwire: Thank you so much! I find my prose still lacking, but I'm trying my best. And don't worry, just because Maou and Emi are on the same side, doesn't mean they won't face challenges. They will face big, scary ones.

I would also like to thank everyone for the favs and the follows! They really motivate me to keep writing this piece, and of course, my main story Demonheart, which I am currently working on.

So if you like this story, check out 'Demonheart!' Also MaouxEmi, starts light-hearted and turns serious very quick.

Until next chapter - Reiuji


	3. His Angel, Her Demon

"General Lucifer."

Glowing, purple eyes immediately shot up, staring at a four-legged creature with brown fur, an eagle's head and giant wings. The creature remained in the air, appearing startled.

"Why have you halted?" the General sneered, making his creature servant flinch slightly, unsure of how to respond to the General's indignant tone. "King Satan has clearly ordered us _not_ to reveal ourselves!"

"My… my apologies, my lord. It's just…" the startled creature stammered, unsure how to proceed.

General Lucifer was having none of it. "Speak", he ordered impatiently, "and you better have a damn _good_ reason for seeking my attention, griffon."  
A ball of purple light formed in his pale palm. "I have no room for inattentive servants in my army. _And neither does King Satan…_ "

The griffon servant let out a squeak, its expression utterly terrified at the prospect of meeting a gruesome end for the crime of displeasing the General, and thus the King of Demons by proxy.

"Of course, my lord. Apologies, my lord." the griffon stammered once more before pointing at a large fire to its right. "I sense a powerful presence amidst that fire, my lord. It could be of great interest for us."

Lucifer turned around to look into the direction the griffon pointed him to. The stench of smoke ascended into the air. A village was burning to the ground – what was left of it could hardly be called a village anymore. Upon inspecting the area closer with his inner eye, he could make out a scarlet haired, young child-

"Say, what exactly is our location right now?" the General inquired, earning a confused look from the griffon.

"Sloan Village, my lord."

"Why is a human village randomly burning to the ground?" the General inquired further, his voice betraying much annoyance and danger.

"I.. I do not know. My troop surveyed that village very often, thus that powerful presence is no stranger to me." The griffon trembled, taking note of the hidden accusation. "I-I can assure you, neither me nor my troop had anything to do with the catastrophe you are witnessing now."

Without saying any more, Lucifer lunged himself towards the village's location, paying no mind to his griffon servant.

"Wait for me, my lord!" the griffon wailed, following his superior just as rapidly.

The pitiful state of the village was even more pitiful than Lucifer initially thought. No houses were standing anymore, the stench of ash and sulphur apparent everywhere. The flames only seemed to rage on without relent or mercy.

Lucifer walked on undeterred, knowing that such ordinary flames could not harm him, a celestial being. Griffons were naturally resistant to human flames, being a more powerful demonic race than most that dwelled in the demon world.

"My lord!" the griffon yelled a few feet behind Lucifer, swiftly sprinting to the General's location.

Ignoring his servant, Lucifer sprinted towards a specific location, his mind's eye keeping the clear picture of the scarlet-haired child before him.

Eventually, Lucifer found what he was looking for. It was one measly girl in peasant clothes, an ordinary girl to the untrained eye. _Weird_ , he thought to himself, _the flames aren't touching her._

Lucifer walked closer, swiftly followed by his griffon servant, and knelt down in front of the girl. Her face was ridded with dirt and debris; her clothes smelt of ash and burnt wood. She felt limp and lifeless in his hands, betraying no rigor.

"Is she-"

"She's still alive. Her powerful magical presence would have ceased if she were dead." came the prompt reply from Lucifer. He rose again, carrying the small girl in his arms, and turned towards the griffon. "We're taking her back with us."

"But—my lord—" the griffon stammered in disbelief. "She is one measly peasant girl, and _human._ You know very well how much Sire hates humans."

"Don't mistake my actions for kindness, griffon. I have my own motives for saving this girl's life."

The griffon swiftly bowed. "Of course, my lord. Humbly allow your servant to ask of those motives." The creature only received a piercing, dangerous glare.

"My motives are none of your concern, servant."

The griffon bowed again. "Forgive my rudeness, my lord. I just cannot imagine that the King is going to be very happy about this… _detour_ of yours…"

The griffon servant could not finish his sentence, noticing that Lucifer had leapt into the air without him.

"My lord!"

Upon arriving at the front gates of the Devil's Castle, Lucifer could hear the palace guards' and soldiers' startled and confused chatter.

"Welcome back, General Lucifer." said one winged demon soldier, bowing swiftly. "Pardon my rudeness, but who or what is that—"

"That doesn't concern you." Lucifer spoke up, loud enough to eliminate further chatter. "Is the King present?"

"Of course he is, my lord. He is in the Throne Room together with General Alciel."

Lucifer furrowed his brows. _Alciel? Has he returned already?_

"Interesting." he said, betraying no smidgen of surprise in his voice. "What about Malacoda, and Adramelech?"

"I haven't seen them approach the Castle yet, my lord. They must still be out on their missions." one palace guard chimed in lowly, a brutish Minotaur demon. Upon closer inspection, he pointed to the scarlet-haired girl in the angelic Demon General's arms. "Is that.. a _human_ girl?"

"Perhaps I haven't made myself clear enough", Lucifer said dangerously, conjuring a purple magic ball in his open palm. "She is none of your concern."

With that, he threw the purple ball in the direction of the palace guard, just barely missing his neck.

"Let this be a warning to all of you." Lucifer bellowed, enough to make the other soldiers cower in fear, "You are absolutely _forbidden_ from mentioning or harming her, understood?"

He regarded the frightened palace guard coldly. "And especially to you. Be grateful that I missed on purpose — next time you decide to meddle in my affairs will be the last time you have a head!"

All soldiers stood frozen in place, unable to move or respond out of fear of becoming victims to Lucifer's wrath.

"Why are you standing there? Get to work, soldiers, or I will _personally_ punish you."

And they all scurried.

"General Lucifer reporting in, Sire." Lucifer intoned as formally and solemnly as possible to show utmost respect to his King. He dropped on one knee, inclining his head respectfully, daring not to look the Demon King into the eyes; that would be very disrespectful.

He completely disregarded Alciel, who was standing next to the Demon King, regarding the aerial Demon General with a critical stare. Surely the sight of that unconscious, scarlet-haired girl must have not gone unnoticed.

"What tidings do you bring to me, servant?" the Demon King's dark, chilling and somewhat growling voice sounded behind the Dark Throne, betraying dangerous impatience.

"A human girl? Sire, this is utterly preposterous!" the Demon General Alciel chimed in, pointing indignantly at the girl in Lucifer's arms. "You fiend, how _dare_ you insult Lord Satan this way—"

"Alciel." Satan spoke louder, warning the Demon General to back off. "You will speak when I allow it."

"Of— of course, Sire. My apologies." the ashen blond Demon General said curtly, bowing deeply.

"Well then, Lucifer." Satan began again, turning his attention to the fallen angel kneeling before him, "Why have you brought this human girl before my throne? You surely do not intend to insult me, do you?"

Lucifer chuckled nervously. "I dare not, Sire. On the contrary, I bring you good tidings. If your Majesty would permit me, I shall convey them in good time." He could feel pearls of sweat drop subtly from his forehead, knowing full well of the difficult position that he found himself in.

Satan rested one of his claws upon his chin behind the veil of darkness. "For your sake, it better be good news. I can't stand the sight of these abominable creatures anywhere near me."

Lucifer flinched slightly. "Of course, Sire. As you requested, I scouted the human lands together with a small troop of griffons, taking good care not to be intercepted by any human forces. On our return we spotted a small, burning village that my men identified as Sloan Village, housing a powerful presence." He pointed to the scarlet-haired girl.

"Even for a human she is most unnatural, Sire. Human children of her age should not possess such great power naturally, and upon further studying the source of her magical potential, I concluded, without the shadow of a doubt, that it is celestial force."

Satan rose from his throne, making his gaze of curiosity visible to both generals. "Celestial force, you say?" he said as he walked towards that girl, grinning wickedly. "You think she is who I think she is?"

"The prophecy is infallible, your Majesty." Lucifer answered with a grin, tilting his head playfully. "She is that _hero_ you were warned about. With her in our possession, there will be no one able to oppose you, My Lord."

The Devil's wicked grin grew wider. "Excellent, Lucifer, well done." He turned his attention to his ashen blond General.

"Alciel, search for Camio. He is to receive this girl into his care so that he can instruct her in the ways of magic."

Alciel felt taken back by that order. "But— Sire— if she truly is the Hero— she cannot be allowed to live! She will surely be a threat to your plans!"

"She is not the Hero right now, is she, Alciel?" Lucifer retorted, now walking towards the tall scorpion-skinned demon. "I understand where His Majesty is going with this. She is still a child, malleable, and we can make great use of her power to counter the celestial force Heaven will undoubtedly send after us."

"Sire, when I scouted the burning village, I found no survivors but her. I believe that magic was the source that killed all the village folk. This is certainly not our work, thus the culprits behind this can only be—"

"—The Church." the Devil finished, nodding in approval.

"It will be very easy to sway this _half-angel_ girl to our side, my Lord. I have no doubt you can ensure her loyalty to our cause. If we can harness her potential correctly, she will be a formidable ally." Lucifer continued, voicing the Demon King's thoughts.

The mighty King Satan emerged from his Dark Throne, causing the heavy chains that held his magnificent, murky cape as well as his long, bronze-colored pauldrons to make loud noise. His Generals shivered at that sound, having an air of royal majesty to it.

The King of Demons took slow, heavy, dramatic steps towards the scarlet-haired girl who was probably on the brink of death. Each step he took with his heavy bronze hooves made Alciel and Lucifer shiver more and more.

"Oh my, that certainly is a twist of fate."

The girl did not even notice that the Devil's fiery, glowing, sadistic gaze was upon her.

* * *

 **His Angel, Her Demon**

* * *

 _ **Saint Aire Empire, Isla Centrum  
**_ _ **Circa 986 – Ten Years Later  
**_ _ **Duchy of Elona, city of Kryta**_

 _ **.**_

It was spring in Elona, the largest and richest duchy in Saint Aire. Flowers of all vibrant colours bloomed next to the pristine, squeaky-clean sidewalks. Peasants from all over the duchy had gathered today in its largest city, Kryta, because it was a very special day today.

The Gods seemed to have blessed this day with great favour, because no cloud could be seen on the rich, vibrantly blue sky, to the delight of the peasants everywhere.

"Make way for the Duke of Elona!"

Right on cue, the peasants erupted in cheers full of adoration, praise and happiness. It was no secret that Elona's subjects enjoyed a very high quality of life and standard of living. Even the poorest peasant in Kryta had a roof over his head and ample food and drink as daily sustenance.

The peasants could see the carriage that made its way towards the ports of Kryta, the horses galloping quickly on the stony grounds. The peasants cheered louder.

Eventually, the carriage halted. The guards took great care not to let any peasant near it, not because there might be an assassin among the peasants, but because they had to follow a strict protocol.

"Papa!"

The faint voice took the guards by surprise and quickly inclined their heads. A young girl with light blonde hair and maroon eyes, dressed in light silver armor, quickly sprinted towards the carriage.

"We bid you a fair welcome, Lady Katarina!"

"Papa!" Katarina shouted again, ignoring the guards and peasants who had also their heads inclined upon her arrival.

Right on cue, the carriage opened, revealing an ashen grey-haired, bearded man with one glass on his right eye, dressed in the imperial uniform of Saint Aire, red and gold. He scratched his head nervously. It was clear by his gestures that he did not expect his daughter to arrive like this, unsupervised.

"His Grace, Duke Charles of Elona!" the guards announced the moment the duke exited his carriage, incredibly well received by his subjects who once again erupted with praise and adoration.

"Your Grace." Katarina curtseyed before her father, inclining her head and then looking into his blue eyes.

"My daughter, why have you not waited inside the manor?" he said with a frown, studying Katarina's rather unladylike attire. "And what is that attire? It is unbecoming of a duke's daughter."

"Papa, have I not told you that I plan to join the Seraph Guard?" she pouted, crossing her arms. "Our family consists of many famous fighters that have fought for the glory of the Imperial Crown. I wish to do our family proud."

"And I have told you a thousand times, no." the duke held his ground firmly, regarding Katarina with a stern look of authority. "You are coming of age, daughter. Rumor has it that His Imperial Highness Prince Lothric is looking for a bride."

Katarina sighed in frustration and shook her head at her father's words. She knew she was an enigma among the nobility. While other fair young ladies of her age concerned themselves with snatching the best-possible suitor to further their families' influence, Katarina thought about battling the enemies of the Empire – precisely, the enemies of mankind: demons. She read countless heroic stories day and night in the castle's library, fascinated with humanity's never-ending feud with demons.

She would beg her elder brother to teach her how to wield a sword and how to fight, all kept secret from her parents, of course. And her brother would always comply, albeit reluctantly.

It has been three years now since Katarina had last seen her elder brother Logan, who had then since been dispatched to the Seraph to bring glory to the Van Astrea name. Katarina had not enjoyed nearly as much freedom ever since; all focus was now on her, having to fulfil her own obligations to the family.

She had seen it long coming, and now her father made it official: Katarina was to look for a suitable groom and give up her dream of being a Seraph. All those fantasies of slaying ogres, griffons, imps and other demonic creatures would be long gone now for Katarina, who would now have to focus on being a proper Lady.

 _ *******_

The Van Astrea manor was nothing less than magnificent. Katarina herself couldn't help but stare in awe every time she saw her home from the outside. As soon as the carriage was within view, two maids promptly opened a wide fence whose highest point was adorned with the Van Astrea family sigil.

A feeling of uneasiness crept up inside Katarina's stomach. She listened intently to the sounds of hooves galloping elegantly over the stony ground, trying to calm herself. As soon as that carriage finally halted before the entrance of Van Astrea manor, her father would bring her to the main hall to meet her mother, and, knowing how shrewd she was, she would probably have a potential suitor with her whom Katarina would be introduced to.

She sighed; sometimes she wishes she hadn't been born a noble, and imagined herself as a farmer's daughter. She imagined the sweet scent of wheat flaring inside her nostrils, of fruits and vegetables, of milking cows — it would be a simple, ordinary life. It would come with certain hardships that nobles simply did not know, yet she would have freedom to choose her profession. _Freedom._ To join the Seraph Guard, venturing to the outside world, slaying demons and bringing their heads back home as trophies. The people would sing her praises in the streets. With each battle, her name would become more and more known, until it would reach the very ears of the Emperor himself. Her name would be spoken with adoration by her people, and feared by the demons, nay, _the_ _Demon King himself._

She could practically hear the cries and praises in the streets as she returned victorious from another gruesome battle.

' _All Hail the Hero—'_

"—Katarina."

Promptly she opened her eyes and met her father's stern orbs. Her breath got stuck in her throat when she realized he had been watching her daydreaming this whole time.

The horses made no galloping sounds anymore – the carriage had come to a halt. And so did her dream of being a demon slayer, perhaps forevermore.

The carriage doors sprung open. A gust of wind followed, gently caressing Katarina's hair and her skin. She dared not speak a word, as etiquette required. Her father exited first, and she was to diligently follow behind him.

"His Grace, the Lord of Van Astrea Manor, Duke Charles, and his daughter, the Lady Katarina!" announced the herald.

Right on cue, every present maid curtseyed before them in unison as the Duke and his daughter walked towards the entrance to the manor.

As soon as they had entered, they were promptly greeted by two familiar presences.

"Welcome home, husband." a woman greeted him, her head inclined respectfully before the Duke. She paid no mind to Katarina, much to her dismay.

Before them stood a tall, brunette woman wearing a green dress. She donned a French pleat, wearing golden earrings and an elaborate necklace with red gemstones.

"Mama!" Katarina lamented, but was ignored. However, she felt a small hand tugging at her garbs. Looking down, she stared at a young, blonde girl dressed like a noble lady – elaborate dress and luxurious hair.

"Darling, I missed you." began the Duke's wife, "The same goes for Gabriella. She barely sees her father anymore, for he is always away."

The Duke chuckled. "Betsy, it displeases me also, but when the Emperor summons—"

The Duchess nodded in understanding. "Would you like to join us for a cup of tea at the living hall?" she asked Katarina the Duke, finally acknowledging her elder daughter. "We have a lot to discuss."

Katarina could only stare after her mother in confusion as she and her father followed her. Her thrilled tone meant nothing good for Katarina's dreams.

As soon as they were seated, Charles gestured his younger daughter Gabriella to promptly leave the hall, which she obediently did. At the same time, a maid brought teapot and three cups underneath a silver platter and promptly poured three cups.

"Dear, how was your audience with the Emperor?" asked the Duchess, taking one sip from her tea. "It seems rather unusual that he would call you to him in such a haste manner."

"The Emperor summons at will." answered the Duke, "You are correct, this summon had a rather… _special_ reason."

He glanced at Katarina, who only averted her gaze in confusion. She knew what would come next, dreading every second of it.

"His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince Lothric is looking for a bride. As the eldest daughter of the Van Astrea family and a possible candidate, you, Katarina, have been summoned to attend the Great Ball."

"Oh, how delightful—" the Duchess Elizabeth mused, "—our daughter becoming Empress. The _Empress!_ We are going to become royalty, isn't that amazing?"

Katarina's stomach twisted and turned at this proclamation. Once more she cursed the day she had been born a noble, having been born to parents who seemed to only view her as a bargaining chip to advance the family's status in the empire.

"If she is chosen, mayhap His Imperial Majesty will permit our dear son to marry the Princess", Elizabeth continued, "You hear, daughter? You will be allowed to see your brother again!"

Katarina's hands curled to fists. "So that's what I am to you, huh?" she finally spoke up, "A bargaining chip? Marrying Prince Lothric? Do you hear yourselves!?"

Her mother promptly recoiled in horror, whereas her father fell silent.

"Has anyone of you ever considered my feelings? My dreams?" she yelled, "Have you ever—"

 _Slap._

It was a loud, stinging noise that echoed throughout the entire hall, but Katarina did not move an inch. All she could do was stare into the cold, stoic gaze of her father. Her eyes dilated in shock, forming big, fat, crocodile tears.

"Papa—"

"Your journey to Mariejois starts tomorrow, and that is final."

* * *

 _ **Demon World – Ente Isla  
**_ _ **The Devil's Castle**_

 _ **.**_

Days later, the Demon General Emilia was to be called before the presence of the Demon King once more.

"—His Majesty's study?"

"Aye, mistress." the herald confirmed meekly, shuddering from the sound of Emilia's indignant voice. "You must follow me immediately."

The scarlet-haired Demon General immediately whipped around, pacing up and down inside her private chambers. _The private study of the Demon King._ It was said that no General, except Alciel, had ever set foot inside this room, forbidden for virtually everyone. Why, in virtually every Hell that existed, would the Demon King bestow upon her such an honor?

"Did—" she stopped herself as her voice faltered. "To what do I owe such an honor?"

"He did not say, mistress, but he sounded extremely delighted. You must be very high in his favor."

Emilia shot the herald an incredulous look. "Don't be crass. Me? In his favor?" she laughed out loud. "Mere servant's squabble, nothing more."

Her feet paced faster. "He hasn't even allowed me to command a legion of my own yet."

"But General—"

"General in name, but not deed." Emilia cut him off, "To this day, I don't understand why he's bestowed upon me such a title. To save me from Alciel's deriding and mockery? What a joke."

The herald trembled in fear. If he chose the wrong words now, the General would have his head. By the same token, if he went back to the Demon King without the General, he was sure to face his wrath.

"I— humbly implore you to not offend him, mistress— he has called you to his study for a very important reason that he hasn't disclosed."

And now, he trembled, squeezing his eyes shut as he awaited her answer. Every muscle in the herald's small body clenched as he imagined his worst fears vividly before his inner eye.

Finally, Emilia sighed. "Take me to him then, herald. There's no honor in slaughtering a mere messenger, and I certainly do not want to lose the favor I supposedly have in his eyes."

She let her slouched body rise from the armchair, dusting off her vestments diligently. She muttered incomprehensible words under her breath, her small hands curled to fists.

The herald watched this scene with much confusion. Finally, he gave his mistress one deep, respectful bow. "Y—Yes, right away, my Lady."

She grunted under her breath; hopefully the embers would have mercy upon her and make this audience as painless as possible.

 _ *******_

"Your Majesty."

As soon as Emilia was brought to the inside of the Demon King's private study, she immediately fell to her knees before him, inclining her head, ever-so-sure that his deep, glowing gaze was upon her at this very moment.

"Emilia."

She could hear him chuckle lowly, a sound that never failed to send tiny little shivers all over her body, making it very hard for her not to tremble visibly before him. To her surprise, his tone sounded strangely pleased — could that herald have been right? Could she really enjoy this much favor in Satan Jacob's eyes? She who, to this day, had never done anything to deem her worthy of her rank as his Demon General?

Emilia could hear him slowly walk towards her with loud, heavy steps, his chains singing with every step he took in a simple, yet very powerful melody.

He threw one glance over to the herald who was still standing at the door. "Leave us."

With one loud, gulping sound, the door closed behind me, leaving me alone with the Demon King.

"Emilia", he began again as he turned his attention back to her, "look at me, my fearsome General. It is unbecoming for you to be cowering in fear before me."

Right on cue her head shot up, meeting his fiery red gaze, one that betrayed approval, whereas her emerald eyes still betrayed fear and uneasiness.

"My Lord", Emilia mouthed, "I—I don't know what to say— f-forgive me."

He chuckled again at her nervousness. "Calm yourself, Emilia. You must think I am displeased with you, yes?"

Her eyes squeezed shut. "I—Well— yes, my Lord."

"On the contrary, my scarlet angel. I am very pleased with you. You are highly favored, never let anyone doubt that."

The Demon King crouched down, cupping her chin with his now crooked index finger. His long, black nail barely scratched the highest layer of her delicate skin.

The Demon General's slender hands firmly clutched her skirt. "My Lord— I don't understand—"

"I wouldn't expect you to. Look around. What do you see?"

She did as she was told, letting her emerald orbs scan the entire room, her small mouth betraying sounds of awe. Purple banners made of the finest linen were on each wall, each depicting the Demon King's personal sigil. In the middle of the room stood a large table, made of the finest wood, seeming old and archaic, and behind it an armchair that rivalled the greatness of the Dark Throne itself.

"Only Alciel and Camio have ever seen the interior of this room, my dear General Emilia. It is the greatest of privileges to be summoned into my private study."

She nodded furiously, painfully aware of this fact. "Sire, I— I don't exactly understand— why was I called here?"

"As I told you before, you are highly favored." he answered her firmly, beckoning her to rise from her demure position. "Even more so than Alciel himself."

Emilia became completely flabbergasted. "I—I beg your pardon?"

Satan let out a long, drawn out sigh as he scratched his head. "I called you here to discuss a very important matter. Minister Camio is bidding me to take a bride."

Right on cue, a furious blush crept up on Emilia's face. She certainly did not expect _that._ In fact, she expected the Demon King to decapitate her in his own study before she would expect something as outlandish and out-of-character as this. Why would he call her into his private study to discuss such deeply personal matters with her?

"Sire— with all due respect— I dare not to pry into such deeply personal matters. Mayhap Minister Camio is—"

"This concerns you very much as well, General Emilia." he cut right into her rambling. "Lucifer found another piece of the prophecy when he raided a church sometime ago."

Emilia nodded slowly as she looked into Satan's eyes. "Are you referring to the prophecy of the Devil and the Hero, Sire?"

"Correct. However, this unknown part was omitted for a very _grave_ reason." He walked over to his wooden table, taking out a small piece of parchment and walking back to Emilia, handing this paper over into her hands.

The letters on the paper did not resemble the tongue of Ente Isla, nor the demon tongue, nor any other tongue Camio had taught her about.

"This was written in _Enochian_ , the language of the Angels of Heaven."

Emilia's eyes widened, suddenly recalling her heritage as a half-angel. Naturally she did not understand such a tongue, having been raised among humans for a short while. Why would Camio omit to her that such a language existed?

"— _But take heed, o ye whom the Gods have created in their matchless image! Woe unto ye who let the Hero fall into the hands of the Devil, for her soul and wings shall be as black as charcoal, her heart icier than the glaciers of the North. She shall unite herself unto him, and together they shall bring forth destruction and desolation upon this Holy Land of the Gods! Yea, the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve shall be powerless against their combined might. Darkness will reign, and the Gods shall weep in the suffering of their fragile creation."_

With each word the Demon King recited from this Enochian parchment, Emilia froze more and more, the heat in her cheeks intensifying steadily. As the realization hit her like a struck bell, so many questions began flooding her mind. She was but a measly girl of seventeen, barely of age! Surely the Devil would not—

"Starting to get the picture now, are we?" he said, chuckling, as he caressed her cheek with his index finger. Emilia flinched at that contact. "Tell me, Emilia, are you afraid of me?"

"Nay, Sire!" Emilia answered earnestly, "It has only ever been a pleasure to serve you! In whatever manner that may have been—"

"Speak openly, then. No General of mine will cower in fear before me."

She averted her gaze. "I—I'm not much of a General, Sire. To this day, I am called 'flower of the palace'. I never felt like—this position was very much suited for a maiden such as myself. A General's worth is proven in combat."

He let out a hearty laugh, surprising Emilia. "Patience, Emilia. Didn't I say you would lead the final campaign to Isla Centrum together with me? _This_ ", he pointed to the parchment in Emilia's hands, "is why. I'm keeping you hidden so that humanity will despair even more than they already will."

Emilia gulped hard, feeling the severe importance of his words like a weight on her back. "So— the prophecy— Am I to be your—" she clearly struggled to say the last word, blushing once more.

"We demons have our greed and lusts. But even I will not force a woman. Victory will be ours either way, but the question is, my dear Emilia", he grinned wickedly as he set his fiery gaze upon her, "do you not wish to walk over their burning corpses by my side, drinking from the same unholy chalice, filled with the sweet ambrosia of victory, as I?"

Emilia's breath hitched in her throat. Her eyes turned crimson, feeling her magic flare up inside her body. Taking in the image of the Devil before her delighted her, it was sin itself.

"Yes", she mouthed, clenching her fists, "I want to see them _burn_ , to carve out their hearts with my own hands—!"

"Then you are _mine_ , for we share the same desire, as the prophecy ordained. _We are to come together._ " he declared solemnly, "Will you deny me, highly favored maiden?"

Emilia froze, feeling Satan's hands resting on her cheeks as he pulled her close. She had never desired such affection from anyone, ever, nor had she ever planned on looking for a groom. She had been infinitely thankful that the Demon King had fed, clothed and sheltered her, but she had never seen him as anything but her Master. Her desire for revenge blinded her to any other emotion — until now.

"No", she felt the words escape from her lips so naturally that she was aghast at herself. "No, I shall not."

And with that, the Demon King broke the remaining distance between them, claiming her lips in one heated kiss. Emilia could clearly feel Satan's crimson magic wander into her own body, sending pleasurable currents of electricity all over.

Much to her dismay he broke the kiss as quickly as he started it, looking amusedly at her flustered complexion. He could tell that she enjoyed it very much.

Holding her close, he looked into her still confused emerald orbs.

"Emilia, once this war is finished, I shall make you my bride." 

* * *

**A/N:** As promised, here is the new chapter of Twisted Fate. If you read Demonheart, you know that I got caught up with some terrible things in real life, and did not know what direction to take this particular story. I thought long and hard about how to develop Satan's and Emilia's relationship in here, and came to the conclusion that arranging their relationship is the best way, for now.

Yes, it may be too fast to some of you, but I won't just leave it at that. Satan and Emilia will be spending a lot of time together, leaving room for their relationship to develop properly. She won't fall for him right off the bat. That would be ridiculous. However, he did save her life, so this would be one way for her to show her gratitude. There's no one else she would ever be interested in, anyway.

And now to answer your reviews!

 **KOMQueen:** This chapter will be especially to your liking, as we get a glimpse on how Maou saves her! The next chapters will give little glimpses of her daily life inside the Devil's castle, so stay tuned! :)

 **EmeraldNorth:** More OP!Emilia coming in the future! My lips are sealed though, because spoilers…

 **Windsweptt:** Yep, Esdeath from Akame ga Kill inspired me to write Emi like this, as well as pixiv comics. Best fanfic inspiration ever, I guess :)

 **2n2kas:** No, Emi isn't stronger than Satan. Regarding being forced to flee together with Alciel — my lips are sealed :)

Until next time, my friends. Stay tuned for more action!


End file.
